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The forest holds its breath. The house stands still. Silence stretches like a second skin.
Khaotung has known silence his entire life. Born deaf, he adapted to the quiet early on. But when an illness stole his voice, the world around him didn't just fall silent-it disappeared.
Now, words exist only in his mind. His thoughts echo off the walls of his cabin, where he lives alone with his cat. His days pass in muted rhythm: short visits to the town, brief nods to his neighbor Dunk, long hours spent writing stories no one hears aloud.
He speaks only to his younger brother, Joong-his hands shaping words in the air, their bond formed in gestures and glances.
In the stillness of the forest, where even the wind moves gently, silence is not a comfort.
It is a presence. A weight. A warning.
Silence can be a killer.